Many of us grew up surrounded by love—at least, what we were told was love.

We got used to hearing “it’s for your own good,” or “trust me, I know what’s best for you.”

For a long time, we believed that this kind of love—protective, arranged, and often conditional—was the only way love could look.

It wasn’t until I became a parent myself that I began to question what I once accepted. Through the eyes of motherhood, I started to see the difference between love and control, care and possession.

Selfishness Doesn’t Always Shout

The most dangerous kind of selfishness doesn’t come in loud demands or obvious neglect.

It’s the type that hides behind concern. It’s the kind that takes over every decision in a child’s life—from choosing hobbies to choosing partners.

It looks like love, but it’s built on fear: fear of no longer being needed, fear of losing control.

These parents mean well, but their need to stay central in their child’s life turns into a trap.

The child appears well-cared-for, but is quietly stripped of independence.

They learn to fear consequences instead of facing them, to consult others instead of trusting themselves.

Even as adults, they struggle to make decisions without asking for permission.

In time, their sense of self fades, and the joy of truly owning their life disappears.

Real Love Sometimes Means Letting Go

I’ll never forget something my mother once told me:

“I don’t care about your grades. I care whether you learn how to learn.”

At the time, it felt like she was letting me off easy. Only much later did I realize it was deep wisdom. She wasn’t chasing results—she was nurturing resilience.

She also told me,

“When you care about someone, you either do it wholeheartedly, or you let them go. Letting go is also a way of loving.”

As a heartbroken middle school girl, I couldn’t understand. To me, letting go felt like giving up. But now I see she was teaching me that love comes in many forms—and sometimes, love means not holding on too tightly.

I still remember what a boy once said to me when I was about to go abroad:

“If we can stay together, I’ll be so happy. But if you find the life you want overseas, I’ll try my best not to be sad.”

He didn’t beg me to stay. He gave me a blessing, gently and maturely. He had feeling on me, and he also respected my path. That too, I now realize, was love. These words, once confusing, became a quiet light in my heart as I grew into motherhood.

Thankfully, My Parents Let Me Choose—And Fall

I’m grateful my parents held traditional values, but didn’t turn those values into chains. They taught me to take responsibility. They allowed me to fail. They didn’t clear every obstacle from my path—but they were always there to catch me if I fell.

Their support wasn’t conditional.

They didn’t say, “I’ll help you if you do what I say.”

They said, “This is your decision—and whatever comes of it, we’re here.”

That, I believe, is what real love looks like.

Not dictating your path, but walking beside you—especially after you’ve chosen your own direction.

This Is the Kind of Love I Want to Teach My Son

I’m the mother of a little boy.

And I often think about the man he’ll grow up to be—the husband he’ll become, the father he might one day be.

I don’t just want to raise a good boy. I want to raise a man who knows how to love deeply and respect fully.

I want him to understand:

Love is not about control.

It’s not about measuring, or testing, or making someone earn your support.

It’s about holding space for someone to be fully themselves—and choosing to stay close anyway.

One day, my son will stand next to someone else’s daughter—someone who was once the light of her parents’ world.

When that day comes, I want him to carry with him everything he learned in our home:

How to offer safety without strings,

How to love without needing to be needed,

How to care with consistency—not control.

Freedom Is the True Shape of Love

Love shouldn’t come with conditions.

Support shouldn’t come with rules.

If we never let our children decide for themselves, they’ll grow up afraid—not of the world, but of their own choices.

Parenting is also a journey of self-reeducation.

It’s the process of learning to let go without letting your love disappear.

Only when we offer our children space to grow, fall, and fly- can they become the kind of people who love honestly and build relationships rooted in strength, not fear.

May every child grow up with the freedom to become themselves.

And may every parent learn to love in a way that sets their child free.